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<title>...⋮⋱.𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛, 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍.⋰⋮... by sonshineandshowers</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24059194">...⋮⋱.𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛, 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍.⋰⋮...</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonshineandshowers/pseuds/sonshineandshowers'>sonshineandshowers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Papa!gil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:28:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24059194</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonshineandshowers/pseuds/sonshineandshowers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm wakes to a fragrant breakfast, yet he doesn't remember how he got home. An unraveling of what transpired and who's looking out for him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>...⋮⋱.𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛, 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍.⋰⋮...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Machancheese/gifts">Machancheese</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jameena/gifts">Jameena</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFibreWitch/gifts">TheFibreWitch</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProcrastinatingSab/gifts">ProcrastinatingSab</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissScorp/gifts">MissScorp</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Malcolm lay prone on his bed, an odd position for him because he was usually restrained on his back. The sizzle, sizzle, thwap, crack of bacon and eggs cooking in his kitchen made its way to his nose. Who brought him home?</p><p>He opened one eyelid slightly to find Gil leaning over his stove. Okay. He was safe. Not that any intruder would have stopped to cook him breakfast. He closed his eye again.</p><p>The happenings of the previous night were a mishmash of cotton soaked in nightmares. A fall through the second floor ceiling on scene led to a gash from the back of his hand to his forearm. His hand —</p><p>He slowly turned his head to his left wrist where his arm was wrapped in gauze from his fingers to mid-forearm. That was why he wasn’t in restraints. He tested his fingers for function, finding they all worked fine, yet moving them plucked pain from the wound.</p><p>Had they given him a tetanus shot?</p><p>Shots of local anesthetic into his hand, his arm to stitch him up. How many stitches…how many stitches…Malcolm couldn’t remember. He only recalled a Frankenstein effect against his pale skin. Tan hands holding him upright.</p><p>Hands that worked in his kitchen?</p><p>Shit, why couldn’t he have partied first if he was going to wake up this stoned?</p><p>Pain medicine. They gave him some when he got to the hospital and more before he left. He was asleep as soon as Gil got him into his car, and he didn’t remember anything else.</p><p>Gil brought him home.</p><p>Faced with the charm of bacon and eggs, Malcolm’s concern drifted further into the recesses of his mind. So he got a little high on opiates, he figured. Wasn’t the first time. He turned over and sat up in bed, a groan releasing as his head pounded, blacking out his vision for a moment.</p><p>Hands were on his shoulders, guiding him back into the pillows. “Hey, kid. Take it easy,” Gil shared, holding on until Malcolm’s eyes opened.</p><p>Why was all of STOMP playing a percussive masterpiece on every free object it could find in his head? Could they give The Surgeon a few whacks while they were in there?</p><p>Malcolm leaned back further and Gil propped another pillow behind him before sitting beside him on the bed. “How’s the head?” Gil asked.</p><p>Were his temples the snare? His cerebellum an improv tambourine rattling until decapitation? He clutched at his forehead, trying to get the rift to stop.</p><p>“What happened?” Malcolm returned a question, his whole body uncomfortable, his head screaming even with the slight elevation.</p><p>“Concussion,” Gil shared. “Do you remember taking a nosedive in the hospital?”</p><p>“I do not,” Malcolm admitted, closing his eyes to dim the racket.</p><p>“Someone said he was, and I quote, ‘fine, fine, fine,’ after falling ten feet — “</p><p>“Probably like eight,” Malcolm corrected. He hadn’t perished, so he was mostly fine at the moment.</p><p>“And failed to mention he had a goose egg on his skull. Know any idiots like that?” Gil squeezed Malcolm’s upper arm, teasing notes mixing with concern in his voice.</p><p>“Can’t say I do.” He kept his smirk to himself.</p><p>“You were a bad scan away from being kept for observation,” Gil revealed a little more firmly.</p><p>“Seems that worked out.” He was in his own bed, thank goodness.</p><p>“Think one of these times you could go to the hospital in an ambulance like a normal human? Or perhaps refrain from these shenanigans in the first place?” Gil’s frustration peeked out even though his tone remained fairly light.</p><p>“Me? Normal?” Malcolm smiled. “You can’t tell me water damage caving in the second floor was my fault.” It was a serendipitous fall that uncovered just how long the tub had been running after the victim had been interrupted. He was <em>helpful</em>.</p><p>“You <em>walked</em> on it,” Gil’s voice rose, clanging the cowbell. “You’re complicit. Accept some responsibility you keep finding danger.”</p><p>“Danger keeps finding <em>me</em>,” Malcolm emphasized passionately, his eyes flying wide to make his point and sparking a grimace across his face.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Gil said, squeezing his arm again. “This isn’t the right time for this.” Gil shook his head at himself. “Try to stay still. I made breakfast — give me a minute and I’ll get it for you.”</p><p>“In bed?”</p><p>“Live a little.”</p><p>Malcolm gradually pushed himself up to sitting a bit higher. Gil came back with a pyrex baking dish he’d turned into a serving tray, bacon, eggs, and toast piled inside. A mug of coffee went onto his nightstand.</p><p>The bacon glistened at Malcolm, his xeric mouth watering at the sight and scent. “Here’s napkins,” Gil set them on the bed beside Malcolm.</p><p>Malcolm grabbed a napkin and wrapped a piece of bacon, soaking away all the grease so it would be less likely to bother his stomach. He held it with his fingers and crunched down, luscious flavor coating his tongue, the sentimental warmth of Gil cooking for him and Jackie curling from his mouth through to his middle. Inevitably, a few crumbs fell to the sheets. “Mother would kill me for this,” Malcolm shared in between bites.</p><p>“Be thankful Dani called me and not her.”</p><p>“Dani?”</p><p>“She brought you to the hospital.” Gil returned a few crumbs to the dish. “You sure your head’s alright?”</p><p>As Malcolm thought about it more, he recalled she led him to a police cruiser when he insisted he was fine and Gil forced him to leave with an unleashed holler of, “I <em>will</em> fire you, Bright!”</p><p>So that was how the night had gone.</p><p>“Got you all stitched up, and some combination of your lack of eating, marvelous blood pressure, and undisclosed concussion had you kissing the floor.”</p><p>“Maybe the concussion came after.”</p><p>“A puddle of Bright.” Gil's eyebrows refuted Malcolm's statement.</p><p>“They gave me drugs — I was woozy.”</p><p>“There’s more when you need them.” Gil pointed at the nightstand.</p><p>“When did we get back here?”</p><p>“Couple hours ago.”</p><p>The essence of half a day he had a hard time accounting for.</p><p>Harrumph, crunch, snap, swig, onomatopoeic drumming extended from Malcolm’s head to his plate, knowing Gil wasn’t going to let him out of his sight any time soon.</p><p>“Don’t look so glum, kid. It coulda been worse.”</p><p>Malcolm gave a questioning stare.</p><p>“At least you missed the body.”</p><p>Malcolm squirmed and Gil laughed a warm salutation that eased some of the tension in Malcolm’s bruised frame.</p><p>Malcolm remembered he had friends who cared for him.</p><p>Even when he did something a <em>little </em>stupid.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>fin</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i wasn't gonna do a thing for 100 pson fics, but then my friends on the whump server seemed excited about it. which is a pretty good descriptor of our relationship — they lift me up and give encouragement, inspiring me into things that wouldn't otherwise be possible. i hope i've been able to share some of the same in return. they mean the world to me — i get a smile from their smile.</p><p>so i asked those friends to give me some of their favorite words, and i wove them into a patchwork story. a gift inspired by them, for them, without whom much of my creative antics would not be possible.</p><p>&lt;3 you all. sharing a smile :)</p><p>crediting the individual people who provided the words, yet please know my hug extends to the whole server and all of you who have given your support. a big thank you to Machancheese, Jameena, hellbent_panda, TheFibreWitch, ProcrastinatingSab, and MissScorp and ze list o’ words they provided: shenanigans, refrain, passionate, sentimental, faced, inevitably, perish, complicit, anesthesia, serendipitous, onomatopoeia, salutations, observation, glistening, charming, essence, danger, prone, idiot.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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